


Cut Me Down, but I'll Still Rise

by TCOOKIES777



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Canon Divergence, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 as Family (Naruto), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Major character death - Freeform, Sarada has 1 father and 4 uncles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCOOKIES777/pseuds/TCOOKIES777
Summary: It was an unspoken rule to protect the team medic; they were the ones trusted to increase the squad’s overall survival rate and thus the success of the mission. And yet, among the gods and the legends of Team 7 who protected the cherry blossom, nobody ever expected that Sakura would be the first to die. But of course, she dies doing what she does best: saving the lives of her comrades.
Relationships: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 & Haruno Sakura, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sarada, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sarada, Uchiha Sarada & Sai, Uchiha Sarada & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sarada & Yamato
Comments: 26
Kudos: 107





	1. Regeneration

**Author's Note:**

> **I DO NOT read the Boruto manga or watch the Boruto anime series. My knowledge of the Boruto universe including its conflict/plot and characters like Kara and Isshiki is limited to the few Crunchyroll clips of the anime that shows up on my Youtube feed every once in a while.**

There are four laws that govern all medical-nin. Lady Tsunade had Sakura write these clauses over and over again, countless times until the young apprentice could recite them word for word in her sleep. She knows these laws like the back of her hand.

  1. _"No medic ninja shall ever stop medical treatment until the lives of their party members have come to an end."_



The land trembles and quakes as, strike after strike, her fists crack open the earth like an egg. Trees bow before her in awe before breaking under the sheer might of her strength, the wood splintering and throwing up debris among the explosions.

  1. _"No medic ninja shall ever stand on the front lines."_



She stands before a god who could so much as smite her with a single finger if he were at full strength. When her arm snaps at a horrible angle, she's thankful that the black markings wrapping her body instantly heals it into place, leaving only the briefest flash of hot pain in its wake.

  1. _"No medic ninja shall ever die until they are the last of their platoon."_



It's not like she wants to be here. She was supposed to be at the hospital performing a coronary bypass surgery but, like always, she found her morning spent chasing after this reckless pair of idiots that she once had for teammates. The same reckless pair of idiots who lay slumped across the ground, drained of chakra and nearly drained of blood as well.

  1. _"Only those medic ninja who have mastered the Strength of a Hundred Technique of the ninja art Creation Rebirth are permitted to discard the above-mentioned laws."_



The purple diamond seal on Sakura's forehead burns through over a decade's worth of reserved chakra and yet it's still not enough. Ninjutsu doesn't work on Isshiki Ōtsutsuki and it takes the most delicate of chakra control to use it at the most minute second and make sure he doesn't absorb the impact of her strikes. But though her body looks untouched, she's already lost count of the number of times he has landed a strike on her in comparison to the hits she's got on him. He's toying with her, Sakura knows this, but that's all right. She just needs to last long enough. How long, she doesn't know.

And now there’s fire in her lungs and she cannot breathe.

When she was a young Genin, one of the first things Sakura had learned from Lady Tsunade was the fact that one’s chakra was essentially their life force. It’s your second cardiovascular system; the energy courses through your organs right down to the molecular level. More vital to the individual than the oxygen they breathe or the blood that spills from their bodies, when it matters most, chakra is the single most determining factor between life or death.

It’s one reason why medical-nin are so few in numbers in battle. You only have so much chakra that you have to decide between using it to fight or using it to save a life. The medical-nins who choose the latter option are considered angels on the battlefield for choosing to give what is essentially a piece of their own life force for their own ally. And it doesn’t hurt, giving a piece of your life. It doesn’t hurt until your body starts running on fumes and you feel like the embers of a dying star with only a sliver of light left to shine on the whole world.

And now, it feels like there’s fire in Sakura’s lungs and she cannot breathe because the rest of her insides are crumbling away to the very stardust she was born of.

She looks up at the apathetic face of the monk who hosts the Isshiki Ōtsutsuki that Naruto and Sasuke had resolved to defeat not too long ago. Alien black eyes peer down at her and, for Sakura, it’s like staring right into the abyss—the void of which threatens to suck her in entirely and reduce her to nothing. And right now, pinned under that dead gaze, that’s exactly how she feels—like nothing. Perhaps that’s how he sees her as, too. Nothing more than a flower to step on as he is doing so currently.

His sandal digs into Sakura’s pale cheek when her fingers start to twitch, but she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her beg for mercy. Nor does she cry from pain when the shock of his attacks wash away, giving her body the chance to fully register the extent of the damage he’d dished out on her. As one of the more esteemed kunoichi of Konoha and with a hefty resume to boot, Sakura takes pride in her abilities and accomplishments. She’s not the reincarnation of a god the way Naruto and Sasuke are, she wasn’t a lab experiment like Captain Yamato, she didn’t have Root training like Sai, and she definitely wasn’t a prodigy with a prodigal father like Kakashi-sensei.

Out of everyone in Team 7, Sakura is the most normal member who can boast the most average background. And yet, out of everyone in her team, she’s the only one who can say she’s held another person’s heart in her hands and kept that person alive. She’s the only one who has performed innumerable surgeries, leaving the number of people she’s saved incalculable. She’s the only one who can say that she’s brought someone back from the brink of death in a world that’s made killing one of the easiest things to do that even a seven-year-old could do it without trying.

But despite her many accomplishments as a world-renowned medical-nin who surpassed the legendary Slug Sannin at a young age, Sakura finds herself thinking that it’s still not enough. It’ll never be enough.

With Naruto and Sasuke unconscious just a few feet away, she’s the last man standing once again, just like back then during the Chunin exams. And just like back then, she knows she’s not enough. She’s not as strong as her teammates and she doesn’t have as much experience as her sensei. And with the way Isshiki is smirking down at her at the moment—crowing on about how his new God Tree will devour all life on Earth and it’s such a pity she won’t live long enough to see it—Sakura is reminded of the only thing she could do back in the Forest of Death: buy Naruto and Sasuke just enough time.

“You’ll never win,” Sakura says, and there’s no hatred or anger in the look she gives him. Only peace… acceptance.

For a moment, Isshiki tilts his head ever so slightly as if he’s caught off guard by her serene expression in the face of death. His surprise only lasts for a second before his mouth quirks up into a smirk. After all, she’s nothing more than a flower to crush under his foot. “It’s that kind of arrogance that’s the reason why humanity is constantly at war with itself. You’re fools for believing in a notion as silly as peace.”

Maybe her younger self would’ve agreed with him, but having lived through war itself and come out alive thanks to the efforts of an arrogant, sunny-haired idiot, she has to disagree this time. She knows he will never win. He’ll come close to winning, yes, and they’ll surely suffer great losses along the way, but victory will only ever be a dream for the Ōtsutsukis.

The sandal pressing her face to the ground lifts away only so that he can pivot around and return his attention to the two men of higher priority than a wilting blossom like her. But Sakura snatches a hand out to wrap around his ankle. There’s no strength left to actually stop him, but he pauses from her insistence anyway. The air starts to fizz with energy and Sakura refuses to close her eyes as she watches him lift a hand which has a finger beginning to crumble at the tip. His host body had been severely weakened in the fight against Naruto and Sasuke, and Sakura’s interference had only worsened his exhausted state.

And yet, feeling her Byakugo seal ache with emptiness, she is loathed to think that her efforts still weren’t enough to defeat him.

The index finger cracks off completely and it draws a small frown from him. He had debated earlier whether she was even worth finishing off or not, and it’s only now that he decides to do it but only because she’s an annoyance rather than an actual hindrance. A flower that won’t bow down under pressure.

“The hell is taking you so long?!” A woman with curly blonde hair and violet eyes suddenly appears, looking a little harried. 

“It seems this body is nearing the end of its lifespan,” Isshiki murmurs, eyeing his middle finger that was already beginning to crumble like the first. He turns to glance again at Naruto and Sasuke but then the hand wrapped around his ankle tightens and he returns his attention to Sakura as if he’d just remembered she’s still alive.

“We’ve gotta go now—they’re almost here!”

Isshiki scoffs at the woman. “Who? Kawaki and Boruto?”

“The entire Shinobi Alliance!”

He pauses but then turns his ear to the side as if to listen for the impending thud that grows ever nearer and louder as the microseconds tick by. Ire flashes through his face and he kicks himself free of Sakura’s grip before giving the two men laying aside a contemplative look. But the middle finger that snaps off his hand is a reminder of his severely weakened state and Isshiki nods to the Kara member, signaling their departure.

Relief sweeps through Sakura despite the sensation of her body burning within, but she knows she’s not out of the woods just yet.

Her senses pick up on Kakashi’s chakra signature not far off and it’s only two more seconds before her former sensei arrives just as she has managed to drag herself over to her teammates.

“You’re late, Kakashi… sensei…” Sakura breathes out.

“Sorry, sorry, I was…” His steel-grey eyes crinkle like they often did whenever he was in the middle of coming up with an excuse for his tardiness. But there’s something about their current and dire circumstances that leaves him struggling for an excuse this time and Sakura merely flashes him a tired smile when he trails off into a somber silence.

“Got lost on the path of life again?” she finishes for him.

The older man smiles beneath his mask and the sadness of it seems to age him by a whole decade. “Actually, it was more of a case of bad traffic.”

“Liar,” Sakura whispers instead of shouts it, and he doesn’t have the heart to insist otherwise. Carefully, she jerks her head to the fallen bough of a nearby tree that had collapsed at some point during her fight with Isshiki. “Help me.”

He nods slowly but is quick to help her drag Naruto and Sasuke and prop them against the trunk. A gentle breeze sweeps through and Sakura closes her eyes just long enough to appreciate the cool caress on her bloodied skin.

“Help will be here soon,” Kakashi reminds her when she links her hands with Naruto’s and Sasuke’s. “Don’t worry, Lady Tsunade is already preparing—”

Sakura shakes her head. As a doctor herself, she’s already assessed the wounds she and her teammates sustain and she knows there’s no time. Not for her boys, at least. And for a split second, she’s back in the Forest of Death counting down the seconds, the minutes, the hours until Naruto and Sasuke can wake up because, like last time, she doesn’t have enough strength to protect them. But the difference between last time and this time is that she won’t stand idly by as the team medic. Everybody may expect her to and believe that her medical role has reached its limit, but Sakura knows best that that’s simply not true. Because just as she was able to buy enough time back in the Forest of Death for her boys to wake up, she knows she can buy them enough time now as well.

But of course, to buy time, it’s only natural that the price to pay is time itself.

 _Her_ time.

The green glow of chakra engulfs her hands—those hands she kept laced with Naruto’s and Sasuke’s. The light flickers and wavers and Sakura feels the purple diamond on her forehead throb in protest as she drains every last minuscule drop of chakra that is left within as well as the chakra that courses through her system.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

“Stop it, Sakura, that’s enough!” Kakashi’s voice is low and tender and fraying at the edge with despair, but he’s no longer her sensei and neither is he her Hokage anymore. He doesn’t hold the authority to talk her down from doing this. Even if he still did, she wouldn’t have listened. She could be stubborn like that, and it’d taken Kakashi a few years to figure that out. “You’ve done enough now,” he adds with the pained expression of a man who has outlived too many of his precious comrades.

**_Lub-dub…_ **

Sakura just shakes her head in defiance. “I’m sorry, Sensei…”

**_Lub-dub..._ **

Blood spills down her chin, but there’s not enough chakra to heal herself. It’s either her or her boys, and Sakura doesn’t hesitate to choose. There’s no time for hesitation anyway and, honestly, it's an easy decision for her to make. And although they haven’t worked together in tandem as Team 7 for over a decade, Sakura still considers herself the team medic, and as team medic, she understands that her number one priority is to do everything in her power to save the lives of her comrades. It’s the very first law Tsunade created for medical-nins: _No medic ninja shall ever stop medical treatment until the lives of their party members have come to an end_.

**_Lub-dub…_ **

She doesn’t stop even when every cell in her body screams in agony as if her insides were combusting.

**_Lub-dub…_ **

Kakashi watches her with a defeated look. He knows this is a battle he cannot help her in this time.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

Her heartbeat starts to slow down, but Sakura keeps going when she senses the heartbeats on either side of her pulse more strongly with each passing second and each droplet of chakra she pours into them.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

“Sarada…” Sakura swallows lightly, ignoring the sweat trickling down the column of her throat. “She wants to be Hokage, you know? You’ll teach her the ropes, won’t you, Kakashi-sensei?”

**_Lub-dub..._ **

The older man stares at her. There’s a silent plea in his smokey eyes—a silent plea to not do this to him. Please don't make him answer her request because to answer her would mean he's accepting the reality of her situation when all he wants to do is turn a blind eye and pretend all three of his former students were just taking a nap together like they often did during their Genin days after a hard day's worth of training.

“Help is coming,” he repeats, but his voice breaks off towards the end.

 _Please don't do this to me,_ Kakashi begs her with those expressive eyes.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

Licking her chapped lips and tasting the copper of her own blood, Sakura shifts her eyes to the current Hokage unconscious at her side. The flesh of his hand is rough but warm and a lot larger than the hand of that little prankster kid with a heart bigger than his body. “Naruto’s become a great Hokage... but he’s still an awful teacher… so it’s gotta be you to teach that girl, okay, Sensei?”

**_Lub-dub..._ **

His hands clench into fists, but Kakashi gives her a nod. It was always hard for him to say no to Sakura in the first place, especially when she was a little girl who wore her heart on her sleeve more often than not. It’s also hard to deny her now, so he nods and crinkles his eyes in assurance. “Sarada will make a fine Hokage thanks to having a mother like you to raise her.”

**_Lub-dub..._ **

She chuckles, but the fire in her lungs burns with a sharp intensity, and her laughter is strangled into a gurgle instead. Slowly, Sakura turns her cheek to glimpse the dark-haired man resting at her side. The pallor of her husband’s face does nothing to lessen his handsomeness and seeing Sasuke so up close like this prompts a wave of butterflies to dance in her belly. Ino had once said that Sakura would forever be a woman fresh in love with her husband. Looking at her husband now, Sakura could still feel that blush of happiness heat up her cheeks—that same blush she always had towards him as a little girl.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

“Sasuke-kun,” Sakura opens her mouth to speak, but there’s suddenly so much she wants to say to him, and yet there’s so little time left. So she merely smiles and leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Look after our daughter... Love her for the both of us…” her words are hardly a whisper in his ear, but she knows their feelings are connected. “I love you, anata...”

**_Lub-dub…_ **

Her grip on Sasuke’s hand starts to weaken but the warmth of him is enough to chase off the icy fingers of death that are already trying to rip her away from him. Sakura wishes she never has to let go of him because it feels like only yesterday that he was holding her hand as they made love under the shade of that apple tree they'd stopped to rest at. It feels like only yesterday she was brushing those ebony bangs aside to look into ruby and amethyst eyes that reflected such pure, wholesome love for her. It feels like only yesterday she was wiping away his tears that splashed onto their newly born daughter's cheeks. Ah, how time flies so fast that thirteen years ago can feel like only yesterday. She wishes there had been more time to grow old together.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

There’s a shrill cry that pierces the sky and Sakura doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

Sai drops down a couple feet away with Ino falling in a second after. But the haze of death keeps Sakura’s vision blurred and darkening at the edges and it’s all she can do to sense their chakra signatures rather than actually see them.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

“Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura whispers to him, struggling to focus on his kind grey gaze. Her breaths come out labored, words tumbling from her lips in between wheezes. Kakashi leans in closer to hear her and she presses her lips to his ear. “Tell Naruto and Sasuke-kun…” Her mouth twitches into a weak smile reminiscent of her spirited grin. “To kick Ōtsutsuki ass for me…”

**_Lub-dub..._ **

The smile falls away but her expression remains relaxed— _too_ relaxed—and she closes her eyes, the viridian green of them once a semblance of spring itself. Her head slides down to rest against the strong shoulder of her husband and Sakura takes that chance to breathe in the smokey, woodsy scent that was Sasuke Uchiha, weaving the scent of his being into the fibers of her soul so that she may remember it in the afterlife.

**_Lub-dub..._ **

“And that I’m sorry… but this time….”

**_Lub-dub..._ **

Her mind feels numb, but a lifetime of memories—both the good and bad, the painful and the happy—flash through like a film on fast forward. And throughout those memories, there is one that remains consistent, burning through like a still picture. It’s an image of Sasuke and Naruto standing side by side in front of her with Kakashi leading them. It’s a memory that once haunted Sakura in her dreams the entire time Sasuke had been deemed a rogue-nin—the memory that her boys were always several steps ahead no matter how hard she chased after them.

**_Lub… Dub..._ **

It had taken her a couple of years to finally catch up to them and she was proud to have done so at the height of the Fourth Great Ninja War, but it had always nagged her that she could never be _ahead_ of them. And yet...

“This time…” Sakura smiles and, for once, she sheds no tears. “I’ll be the one... to go on ahead of you guys…”

**_Lub..._ **

Kakashi leans back and his grey eyes are bright and gleaming like the blade of a kunai. His tears don’t fall, but he raises a hand to lay it warmly atop of her pink head, ruffling the cherry blossom locks as he often did since her Genin days either out of comfort or praise or simple affection. “Sakura, you always were… a kind and gentle-hearted girl.”

But the chakra glow of her hands is already gone by the time he finishes speaking.

Kakashi looks down to where her hands are still linked with the hands of her teammates, and the affectionate hand on her head begins to tremble as the former sensei of Team 7 finally lets the tears fall down. Another painted bird cries out above him and in drops the new Team 7 who have yet to develop the strength to carry the world’s burden that they'll soon inherit on their small shoulders.

The last shred of thought that possesses Sakura Uchiha isn’t a memory or a feeling… No, it’s simply the thought that she hates to go. She still has so many things left to do with her life: watch Kakashi’s wrinkles deepen with age; celebrate many more girl’s nights with Ino and Hinata; tease Naruto for his endless work as Hokage; try for that second child Sasuke had been discussing with her recently; help guide Sarada through her blossoming years as a young woman with the goal of becoming Hokage. Although she has no regrets to name, there's so much more left on her list of to-do.

At the age of thirty-three, it’s too soon for Sakura to go. At the same time, she also thinks it’s fine because, no matter what, she’ll always be with them. With her life force running through their veins, she’s a part of them in a way that family is usually tied together by blood, only in this case it’s by chakra. Through the many patients she has saved… through the beautiful, strong-willed daughter she gave birth to… through her husband and the family that is Team 7, she’ll continue to live on. And as her soul departs for the Pure Land that is the afterlife where she’ll gladly wait for quite some time until the rest of her family catches up to her, she parts in peace, knowing that the future is in good hands.

Come what may, through hell or fire, the tree leaves of Konoha will continue to dance with life, the buds and saplings growing ever stronger. And for a cherry blossom that lived such a fleeting life like her, there were plenty more ready to bloom in the face of adversity.

At thirty-three years old, Sakura Uchiha dies.

At thirteen years old, Sarada Uchiha awakens her Mangekyō Sharingan.


	2. Seed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves for the whiplash.

It's not often that Sasuke Uchiha gets to sleep in on a lazy morning instead of reporting to Naruto first thing or chasing after a lead on Kara. It's even rarer that he gets to sleep in on this lazy morning with his wife who is usually up before even him at the crack of dawn, getting ready for another long shift at the hospital. So he thinks that Sakura must still be half-awake and that it might be the wrong time to ask her what he just asked, but it's too late now to save those words for another time.

“What… did you say, Sasuke-kun?”

His hand remains still over the flat of Sakura’s belly, though his fingers twitch ever so slightly—the only indication of the sudden anxiousness that pangs in his gut. He's never been good with expressing his feelings through words, but he'd thought his question had been straightforward enough. To make his meaning more clear, Sasuke lets his calloused fingertips dance across the soft flesh of her belly, eventually settling in the space beneath her bellybutton. There’s a small intake of breath from her but Sakura remains quiet, patient.

He shifts slightly, burrowing his nose into cherry blossom locks if only to muffle the quiet words that seem to echo through their bedroom. “Do you want to give Sarada a sibling?” he asks again.

There’s a contemplative silence between them that seems to stretch on, giving the chance for the late morning sun to finish spilling through the white lace curtains of their window. Golden light washes over their onyx bedsheets, framing the cherry blossom locks that tickle his cheek in a rose gold color. When the anxiety starts to tighten in his chest, Sasuke digs his nose further into the nape of her neck, letting that familiar minty shampoo she’d used since her Genin days fill his lungs to ease him. It prompts Sakura to finally peer over her shoulder, emerald eyes blinking at him with mild surprise.

“What brought this on all of a sudden?”

He’d expected the question, but he still finds himself struggling to explain the feelings within him.

As if sensing the turmoil at her back, Sakura looks away, the edge of her smile not going unnoticed by her husband. A slim hand slides from her pillow to cover Sasuke’s hand, pressing it flat against her belly. “Can you believe it’s been almost thirteen years since?”

Thirteen years since they’d departed Konoha, side by side, and then returned a year later, hand in hand and carrying a baby. He nods, mouth tugging up at the many memories they’d created together in that single year, just the two of them versus the world before it became the three of them. “Aa, it’s been a while.”

But for him, it feels like only yesterday.

“When Sarada was a toddler, you left to continue investigating the mysterious threat of the Ōtsutsukis.” Her voice falls into a whisper that’s gentled by a smile Sasuke can only hear rather than see. “Do you remember what you told me the day you decided you would have to leave?”

He nods against her, answering slowly and quietly like they were sharing a secret. “I said… I don’t want our child to have to suffer the way I did.”

“Yes, that's right… You left to protect this village,” Sakura whispers back to him. “You left to protect our daughter and the bonds that she would make throughout her life… That’s why we put off on that second child. You wanted to wait until the world was safe enough… You wanted to make sure Sarada would never have to go through the same tragedy that you went through with your brother.”

There’s a lump of emotions in his throat and Sasuke’s grateful that his wife is so patient and understanding with him that she can gather his entire intention behind a single ‘Aa’. He swallows that lump down so that his voice isn’t so thick when he says, “But we’re not getting any younger, Sakura. The older we get, the stronger the new generation becomes.”

He once thought that he could spare Sarada and the village of the threat of the Ōtsutsukis. But the years had flown by and, with the rise of Kara, the threat he’d so ardently worked to protect his daughter from had only grown more powerful. Sasuke knows that the older he gets, the closer he is to death… but even more worrisome than that, the closer his daughter is to experiencing heartbreaking tragedy.

“You’re afraid that something will happen to us and that Sarada will have to suffer the same loneliness you went through.” The hand over his tightens before Sakura finally twists around to face him. The smile on her face is calm, but there’s a nostalgic sadness that dulls her emerald gaze. She pulls his hand towards her mouth, pressing a kiss into his worn palm before guiding it back down to her lower belly, his fingers splaying warmly across the soft flesh. “Is that why you want to give her a sibling?”

“Aa,” Sasuke whispers to her, and he watches her smile widen with a serene joy as he presses his hand against her belly in affirmation. “But… only if you want—”

“I do.” She breathes, her soft belly expanding against his palm. He still remembers the way the swell of her baby bump had felt in his hand at only a few months into her pregnancy. The corner of his mouth rises as Sakura whispers those two simple words again to him exactly the way she did the day they took their wedding vows.

There’s a sense of relief that makes Sasuke sag further into his pillow. Relief that this was happening… that it would happen. The relief immediately morphs into a peaceful joy as they continue to just drink in the sight of one another.

“Do you…” The tip of her tongue darts out to lick her lips and suddenly her cheeks warm up with a shade that matches her hair. “Do you want to start now?”

Caught off guard by the proposal, Sasuke can’t help but freeze. It was one thing to suggest making another child, but it was another thing to actually… Well, he hadn’t quite expected that they’d start trying no sooner than he’d asked.

Seeing his astounded expression, Sakura’s eyes flick down to where their hands are joined over her belly. There’s a green glow that envelopes their hands and Sasuke gives her an inquisitive look. She licks her lips again and he has the sudden urge to kiss those plush petals. “I just stopped my birth control,” Sakura murmurs, and it’s enough to distract him from fulfilling that urge. “I could induce ovulation right now to ensure impregnation, but I don’t think that’s necessary since I'm still pretty fertile and you're, ah, quite potent…”

Hearing those medical terms in the doctor's office would've felt awkward for him on any given day. But hearing it from his personal doctor's lips while they're naked in bed together does funny things to Sasuke as he feels a hot rush through him. Things that make him want to test that claim.

"Also," Sakura says, biting her lip, and it doesn't help that there’s that demure look in her eyes she often gives him when it’s just the two of them, "you did get me pregnant pretty quickly into our journey back then.”

 _Too quickly_ , he can’t help but think. He’d almost turned them right around to go back to Konoha, but it would’ve been a bit embarrassing having to explain to Kakashi why they were returning so soon when they’d just barely left. And knowing how determined Sakura could be, he knows she would’ve refused to turn back, especially after waiting so long to go with him.

Sasuke swallows hard at her accusation, but then he starts to smirk. “You couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“You couldn’t stop looking at me,” she retorts back. “And you knew from the start that I was pregnant but you wouldn’t even tell me. You just waited for me to find out for myself and by then I was already almost nine weeks.”

It’s true and although Sasuke doesn’t regret it, it’d been a ridiculous sort of agony having to wait weeks for Sakura to discover her pregnancy. It wasn’t his fault that his Sharingan had accidentally picked up on the distinct ball of chakra growing in density within the pit of her belly. So he’d kept quiet, biding time for when Sakura would happily announce to him of their future addition. But the weeks had passed by quite sluggishly as all he could think about was the joy of having created something beautiful… and then the depressing thought that he didn’t deserve that bundle of joy after all the pain he'd caused… followed by the fear that something terrible might happen to his newfound family. Those nine weeks had been a silent rollercoaster of emotions for the young Uchiha, soon to be a father.

“But…” Sakura’s lips curl up playfully and there’s a delicious tingle in Sasuke’s spine when she drags a finger down his sternum and through the crack of his abs. “It’s been quite a long while since the last time we made a child.”

“Hnn… only about thirteen years,” he mumbles, relishing how her fingers stroke at the various white scars that pepper the muscles of his torso. The tingle in his spine grows as her fingers stroke lower, and lower and—they finger at the edge of the sheet draped across the sharp v of his hips and he bites back a frustrated groan when she stops there instead of handing him relief.

There’s already a tent building beneath the blanket, but Sasuke’s hand is still trapped in hers.

He smiles in relief when she sits up, pulling her hand out of his grasp to brace the solid planes of his chest. As she does so, the silk black sheets slide down her body like a waterfall of ink and the first thing he notices are the scatter of love bites decorating Sakura’s breasts. They’re a memento of last night and he reaches a hand up to trace them like a constellation, but she swats him away with a teasing grin.

His blood that had been rushing South just then instantly spikes towards his cock when Sakura straddles his lap, her strong thighs firmly cradling him. With the grace of a cat, she arches her back and leans down to press her lips to his ear. “I think we need to practice first,” she tells Sasuke in a low and sultry voice that further provokes the ravenous hunger in him.

The hot breath tickling his ear forces another shudder to run through Sasuke and he helplessly presses his hips up towards her, his tip just barely brushing her soft folds that’d wrapped so tightly around him last night. But then he pauses, hips still arched into her, and flicks his eyes to the closed door of their bedroom. “Sarada—”

“Is at school and won’t be home for the next five hours,” Sakura purrs out before pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Before he can angle his face to meet her lips, she’s already leaning back with a grin, the morning sunlight highlighting every swell of her curves. It’s a game they like to play; see who can tease the other until someone ultimately gives in, submitting to the passionate urges of their heart. It’s really Sasuke’s fault for having taught her this game by being the one to start it back when they were younger. After all, he’s an Uchiha, and he likes a good challenge.

His hand slides along a toned thigh, caressing the apex of her hips before sweeping up, and up, and—Sakura sighs when his thumb brushes across her breast—up, only to cup the base of her throat. Her back arches again like a pleased cat when Sasuke drags her face down towards him.

His lips meet each corner of her mouth, left and right, before tracking down to trace the soft edge of her jawline.

“Sasuke-kun,” Sakura murmurs, rosy lashes fluttering with every delicate kiss he presses along the frame of her face.

With her distracted, his hand slides down and cups a heavy breast that swells in his grip with need. She sucks in a breath sharply, and that’s enough to tell him that he’s won this game of temptation. Her mouth meets his eagerly and he grins into the kiss, hearing her whine into his mouth when he rolls the rosy peak of her breast around with his thumb.

“I think we do need practice,” he finally says after they break from the kiss to catch their breaths.

Her lips are already starting to bruise, but not yet as bruised as they were when she fell asleep. Licking them again to taste his kiss off her lips, Sakura nods. The jade shade of her eyes has deepened into a forest green as she stares at Sasuke with a lust that has only ever been directed to him. “Mm, last night was just a warm-up.”

Sasuke’s eyes widen when she reaches down between them and grabs him so firmly that it abruptly throws him onto the precipice between pain and pleasure—and damn it, he loves it. A hiss escapes him as her hand strokes him up and down, once… twice… three times.

“S-Saku… raa..”

Her thumb sweeps across his weeping tip, circulating round and round and sending him spiraling with need. If she wants to, she can use her chakra to stimulate all the nerves in the cock she's gripping to make him cum violently for her in a second. He knows this from experience, and the terrifying excitement of that memory somehow makes him swell even more in her hand.

As if knowing exactly what her husband is thinking, Sakura smirks.

In retaliation, Sasuke trails his hand down the constellation of hickeys and cups her fully between her legs. He’s unabashed to let out a pleased groan when he realizes she’s already dripping wet for him, her tight heat enticing his fingers further in.

Sakura bites her lip as his finger starts to trace the seam of her swollen entrance, the sweet dew of her body collecting on that lone fingertip. It’s only when he suddenly presses that finger into her and all the way up to his knuckle does she open her mouth to let out a quiet gasp. Her walls instantly clamp down on that single finger, suckling him with a promise of the warm embrace he would soon be welcomed into.

A mix of their fluids from last night easily coats his digit and he curls within her, feeling her walls still painted sticky and white thanks to his earlier efforts.

The heat between their legs is so hot at this point and practically throbbing, but Sasuke can’t tell if it’s from him or her—probably both, if the way her hips roll against his finger is any indication.

He adds another finger into her tight warmth and Sakura croons for him, a silent plea in those jade orbs to touch her more, love her more, fuck her more. And because it had always been so difficult to deny her of her wants, Sasuke obeys and presses his thumb to the swollen nub just above her wet cleft.

“Ah!” Pink locks fly aside like scattered cherry blossoms as she throws her head back, baring her long porcelain throat. And because it’s so white and completely exposed to him like this, Sasuke surges up to latch his teeth to it, prompting Sakura’s quiet moan to quickly rise into a cry for more. Under the gentle ministrations of his thumb, her clit hardens and swells, eliciting little shudders from Sakura each time he flicks, presses, or rolls it. Meanwhile, his finger pumps in and out of her, beckoning for those hot juices to coat his finger more in preparation for what he’s going to penetrate her with next.

"S-Sa… _ah_ … _ah_ … suke..!" Her hips squirm against his hand, hungry for more of him.

He drags his teeth down her neck, skimming the delicate flesh. Her pulse thrums against his tongue and he sucks harder, forcing that pulse to quicken and her white flesh to redden.

Something hot trickles onto the length of his cock and Sasuke’s hand draws out to grasp the length of himself now slick with her spilling arousal. But then a pair of strong hands shove him back, knocking the breath from his lungs and sending a sharp thrill to his groin. The sight of his wife kneeling over his cock is enough to draw out a growl from him and Sasuke surges towards her once more, only to be kept pinned down by those delicate but strong hands.

“Sakura…” he groans out when she aligns his swollen tip to her entrance. There's already a river of precum trickling down to the heavy sack of his balls. Shards of white abruptly cut through Sasuke's vision when she traces the little river down to the sensitive cleft of his balls with the very edge of her nail. All the muscles of his body tense from that one dainty touch as he growls out, "Fuck!"

And that’s exactly what they’re about to do.

His hand flies to Sakura’s hip and grips her there, his fingers digging into the plump flesh of her ass as she lets his tip glide between her soaked folds, back and forth, back and forth. It’s torture and he grits his teeth, giving her a low snarl that makes her tremble, titillating in need.

It doesn’t help that those jade orbs are hooded with a hunger that matches his own and the Uchiha patriarch feels like he’s a starved man being held back from tasting the most exquisite dish he could ever ask for. Such depravity drives out another snarl from him—he was never really known for his patience anyway—and Sasuke stabs his hips up. It elicits a surprised gasp from Sakura, throwing her off balance slightly. He does it again, commanding his wife to do it now. _Now_ , or else he’ll do it.

A hand braces over his chest, feeling the rushed beat of his heart. The touch is gentle and soothing against his hot skin, but it only stokes the heat raging within him, the crimson fire building with white hot pleasure into a tempestuous inferno. Only his wife is capable of putting out that fire; they’re like two chakra natures that balance each other out—her water nature to his fire nature.

“Sakura,” he chokes out, jaw clenching as his tip is guided just between her plush folds. And damn it, those swollen lips are already soaking wet and trying to suck him further into her hot sheath.

“Mmn, get ready for some intense training, Sasuke-kun,” she says with that teasing grin.

The fat head of his cock kisses the mouth of her pussy once, twice—a string of his cum and her arousal stretch between them—and three times and then…

Oh so slowly, Sakura finally sinks down on him.

Sasuke lets out a sound that’s a mix between a hiss and a groan as velvet folds are forcibly parted to accept every devastating inch of his cock. She's so tight that it feels like her insides are trying to suckle him in while also trying to stop his intrusion. Over the hush of his voice, he can hear Sakura whimpering in elation and effort as he stretches her… and stretches… and streeeetches—

“Sa… suke… kun!”

—and fills her to the brim, molding her insides to his shape.

He can’t help that his Sharingan is already starting to bleed through, awakening from the intense emotions roiling within him as he watches Sakura—his _tsuma_ —seat herself atop of him, claiming her throne as the Uchiha matriarch. Black commas pinwheel wildly at the sight of her flushed cheeks, petal lips parting open to release a pleased, guttural sigh.

She's hot velvet wrapped tightly around the steel of him and Sasuke is flooded with a torrent of ecstasy and desire that burns hot in his belly and radiates across his entire body. He can feel her walls spasming and fluttering tightly all around him like a glove, wet and wild, with every ragged breath she takes and every shift of her body.

And then Sakura rises—revealing his cock now glistening completely with their combined love juices—and Sasuke instinctively slams himself back home inside her when she starts to lower. Jade orbs go round from the way he spears into her—from the pleasure that shoots through her core, and Sasuke does it again, thrusting with that same intensity and angle that she likes.

The married Uchihas are quick to enter this intimate and primal ritual as their hips eagerly undulate against each other.

“ _Ah! Aahn! Y-Yes, Sasuke… kun!_ ” Sakura chants his name in between whimpers, her jade gaze holding with those intense ruby and amethyst eyes.

She doesn’t look away and neither does he.

They can’t—not when he’s watching her blossom before him while she’s captured by those pinwheeling commas. They’re caught by each other; enthralled by the other’s raw and wholesome love reflected in their heady gazes.

Sasuke can practically feel his right eye burning hot with not pain but pleasure as the commas continue to spiral endlessly for her. He’s memorizing every detail with extreme clarity, from the way her abused breasts bounce with eagerness—one of them captured in the palm of her hand—to the way her sweet sweat trickles down the column of her exposed throat. And he can’t help that his Sharingan awakens instinctively every time they make love like this.

The first time it had happened was when he was barely nineteen years old. He had been holding Sakura’s hand exactly the way he’s her holding now, gently sheathing himself into her tight warmth beneath the shade of an apple tree they’d been tasked to pick. She had stared right into the two most powerful dōjutsus in the world—eyes that could literally kill a person with a mere glance—and then she’d smiled and kissed each eyelid, not even losing the rhythm of their lovemaking.

And so every time they’d joined together, bodies and souls reuniting like long lost lovers, his obsidian eye would automatically fade to red and memorize every detail of their every union. Even now, the memory of their first time—and their every time after—is so fresh and vivid in Sasuke’s mind that just remembering it is like watching a porn film with him having a front-row seat. He would take that secret to his grave, however.

"Sasuke… kun!" Sakura sings out for him, her free hand kneading and plucking at her breast.

The single rosy tip bouncing free before Sasuke's face makes his mouth water and he dives forth to capture that tit in his mouth. She cries out as he nips and sucks with a hunger that only she can sate. The hand that'd been bracing his chest for support moves to cradle the back of Sasuke's head as his tongue swirls lazily around the tender tip of her breast before his teeth tugs at it.

"Oh!" Sakura's fingers tangle into his raven locks as she sucks in a breath from the delicious pain curling into the pleasure spiking through her. It's only when those fingers start to tighten does he mercifully release her breast from his mouth with an audible wet **_'pop'_ **.

Sasuke settles back into the pillows as he returns his gaze to her face, memorizing how her brows are so furrowed in concentration as she struggles to match the quick thrust of his hips.

The room is stuffy with the heat of their moans and bodies, charged with a sexual tension that's building higher and higher into a crescendo that threatens to break them. The smell of sex and sweat fill the air along with the sounds of their heavy panting and the lewd slushing noise of their union. All of it only serves to encourage Sasuke to keep going, keep loving, keep fucking for this woman who's riding the throne of his cock as his chosen Uchiha queen.

"Sakura," he snarls out. The inferno inside him is twisting out of control, rising higher every time she accepts him into her warmth.

"S-Sa.. Sasuke… kun..!" She can barely speak now without his thrusting stealing the breath from her. "Please! _Ahn!_ Pl.. ease!"

The commas of his eye continue to whirl with fervor as Sakura’s moans start to rise in pitch. He can feel her walls spasm in warning all around him and the delicious pressure in his gut is building hotter and hotter with every thrust and roll of their hips. The bed is creaking loudly in protest now but Sasuke could care less. He’s much too captivated by her blushing face, jade eyes glazed with euphoria and pink lips stretching open to release those sweet moans that make his heart flutter and ecstasy coil in his core.

He takes a possessive kind of pride in the fact that he’s the one who elicits such an obscene expression from Sakura. Her innocent blushes are one thing, but the lewd flush of her face right now is reserved only for their bedroom… only for him.

“Cum for me,” Sasuke commands her, voice husky and thick with desire. “Sakura.”

His Sharingan captures the sight of her when Sakura’s back bows into a graceful arch and she wails out in ecstasy for him, " _Ana… ta_ — _aah!_ "

And—yes, there it is; she’s _blossoming_ for him.

And the sound of his wife calling for him—her _anata_ —is enough to set off the pleasure that explodes within him.

" _Tsu… ma..!_ " Sasuke answers her in a low, guttural groan that escapes through clenched teeth as pleasure rips from the pit of his stomach and through his entire body.

A wave of rapture clouds his mind as he’s stricken not by her fist but with an orgasm that tears down everything that he is and bares his soul to her, naked as he is now.

His cock stabs all the way up and into her one more time, easily lifting her off the bed as she continues to wail. He erupts in her, and then he pours, and pours, and pours, and she takes, and takes, and takes. Her tight walls are clenching so desperately—so frantically—onto his cock, milking him of every last drop of love he has to offer her, greedily sucking him for more, and more, and _more!_ She’s demanding—no, _commanding_ him—to get her pregnant and Sasuke is all too willing as he’s consumed whole by the biological, primal urge to breed his chosen mate, his wife, his tsuma, his—

“Saku— _raaah!_ ”

A sharp cry escapes Sasuke as another wave of pleasure tightens and explodes in his gut and he's suddenly spilling a fresh, hot load into Sakura. Spurt after spurt gushes into her depths and it seems to keep going endlessly as her insides grip him like a fist, demanding for more of his love. Meanwhile, Sakura is now whimpering his name above him, eyes wide and brows pinched as he pumps, and spills, and pours, and fills her up until it starts to overflow and dribble out from where they're so tightly joined.

She mewls when Sasuke jerks into her again with that last spurt, painting her insides even whiter with a fresh coat of cum.

His grip on her hip is so tight and trembling that he's certain she'll go to bed tonight with a bruise printed in the shape of his hand. The thought pleases him, though he knows she could always heal it away, and Sasuke growls as his hand tightens even more on her until his knuckles are bone white. She gasps in response but her heavy-lidded gaze tells him she likes the thought of him bruising her too.

As the peak of their sexual high slowly starts to fall into a gratifying bliss, he loosens his grip on her.

But Sasuke's Sharingan is still spinning wildly in ecstasy even as Sakura collapses atop him, shaking like a delicate flower with her cheek laying against his sweaty chest. None of them say anything for a while, both still panting for dear life and coming down from the pinnacle of euphoria.

He catches his breath first and wraps his arm around her waist to wait patiently for her, listening to Sakura's ragged breathing die down to a sated sigh. Meanwhile, she spends her short break listening to the quickened thumps of his heart pounding against her ear and Sasuke knows she's counting every beat.

It feels like he's nineteen years old again, spending a lazy, pleasurable morning with Sakura in his arms when they're supposed to be getting ready to continue their travels.

If someone had told a twelve-year-old Sasuke Uchiha that this—holding love in his arms on a peaceful morning—would be his future within seven arduous years, he would've raised a brow in disbelief.

If someone had told a thirteen-year-old Sasuke—just after leaving Sakura on that fateful night—that he would be expecting a baby with her within six tedious years, he would’ve scoffed at such an impossible dream.

If someone had told a sixteen-year-old Sasuke—just after killing Itachi and crying in agony over the truth about him—that in three more painful years he’d be crying happily over his newly born daughter he'd hold in one hand with Sakura supporting their baby with her own hand, he would’ve laughed in that person’s face until the tears and blood had run dry on his cheeks.

If someone had told a seventeen-year-old Sasuke—just after thrusting Sakura into a genjutsu in which he spears his hand through her heart—that he would be thrusting his love into this same woman within less than two onerous years and beyond, spearing her with his cock instead, he would’ve thought that he himself had fallen into the trap of the Infinite Tsukuyomi.

Seven years of pain, anger, and loneliness—and then suddenly all of that is replaced by bliss, love, and a daughter?

Often, it still feels so surreal to him that sometimes Sasuke finds himself teleporting home, no matter the distance, just to check if this family he has now isn’t just a fantasy of his… and that he’s not in an Infinite Tsukiyomi or lost his mind. Because it’s all just so surreal and yet… and yet they’re already trying for another child.

Just as he's starting to wonder again if he really did get caught in the Tsukuyomi, Sakura is already breaking apart those thoughts with a soft, content giggle that warms his insides and tightens his grip on her waist.

"Next time, let's continue training in your genjutsu," she murmurs against his pec, dainty finger tracing the solid ridges of his abs.

The breath catches in his throat at the idea that they could spend hours, years—an eternity—doing this… ‘ _training’…_ in a fantasy of their own making, and it would take up only a second in the real world. The idea is far too tempting to not test out, and there's a deep rumble in Sasuke's chest when he answers with a sensual, "Hnn…"

Sighing in content, Sakura rubs her belly like she’s just had her fill of dessert. “I wonder how quickly I’ll get pregnant this time. I can’t wait to break the news to Sarada when the time comes.”

“Aa, I’m sure she’ll be happy.”

And he knows his daughter will make a wonderful, older sibling, especially when she takes so much after her mother who seems to have a magic touch when it comes to children.

Sakura hums thoughtfully for a second. "Sooo, do you want to give Sarada a brother or a sister?"

Huh, he’s never actually contemplated that despite pondering over the idea of a second child for a long while already.

"I don't mind another girl,” he answers softly into the rosy crown of her head.

"Hm, I hope we get a boy this time.” She nuzzles a smile into his broad chest. “I'd like to have a little Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke tips a brow at that. He’s not sure if it’s a good idea having a mini-him as Sarada’s younger sibling, but he doesn't say anything. He merely cups Sakura’s belly, imagining how it will gradually swell with life once more in due time, and he makes a silent wish that she'll have another girl.

"Well, if we get another girl, we'll just have to try for a boy next time.” There’s a pause and then she peeks up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes. “We'll have to up our training too."

His brow raises even higher at that. "A-Aa…"

“But unless you’re feeling tired…” she drawls out.

Hearing the challenge in her sly voice, Sasuke clicks his tongue and flips their position so quickly that Sakura’s startled gasp echoes in the room. He holds her stare and a smirk spreads across his face as he watches her viridian eyes widen and drift down to where they’re connected… to where he’s already hardening for her.

“You’re the one who needs to practice on their stamina.”

“What—mmn!”

Swooping down, Sasuke captures her mouth in his and plush lips instantly open for him. Tentatively, her tongue meets his and he tips Sakura’s face up so that he can properly devour her, his tongue dominating hers after a short contention. She’s usually the one who initiates the kisses, hers firm and soft. But when he initiates, more often than not, his kisses are hard and demanding.

It’s only when she starts to whimper for air does Sasuke give an experimental thrust of his hips. Upon Sakura’s muffled moan, he mercifully breaks away and they give each other a look that simmers as something tense and intimate passes between them. It charges the air of the room and there’s a low rumble in his chest that prompts Sakura to purr back in answer.

He rolls his hips against hers and the commas of his Sharingan start to pinwheel for her once more.

This time, Sasuke isn't as gentle and patient with her. He's rough, hard, and aggressive as the fire in him roars for her and she fans those flames with each hot kiss she breathes into his mouth and into the embers of his soul.

Sasuke has always been a man of action rather than words, but Sakura understands him nonetheless. She understands him when his fingers lace with hers to pin her hand down to the mattress. She understands when her legs are stretched wide and high to cradle his whole body. And she understands when he's furiously driving his cock home inside her, pistoning with the desperation of a man terrified at the thought of losing his family again someday—and she understands that every sharp, brutal thrust into her is Sasuke's silent and desperate way of saying _'I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!'_

 _'I understand'_ , she tells him through a simple kiss.

As the birds chirp their ‘good morning’ for the day outside the Uchiha home, all that can be heard within are the persistent—sometimes violent—squeak of the bed, accompanied by the heavy slaps of wet flesh hitting wet flesh with pitched whimpers and possessive grunts cutting in between.

To anyone else, it might’ve seemed too violent… the way Sasuke embraces Sakura… the way he crushes his lips to hers and greedily drinks in her moans… the way he flips her onto her belly and fucks her senseless into their marriage bed, her pleased sobs muffled but loud.

To anyone else, it might’ve seemed like Sasuke was a mad man viciously deflowering a lovely cherry blossom. But rather than a man possessed by madness, Sasuke is simply a man possessed by love. For when an Uchiha loves, they love straight from the burning hearth of their soul almost to the point where they’re nearly consumed by the flames of such passion.

So for the next few hours, no words are spoken. They have their own love language that allows them to communicate through a simple look in the eye, a tilt of the lips, and a pleased sigh or groan. United together like so, their hearts sing out to each other in a rapid but steady, synchronized rhythm.

It is a symphony of passion; a love song without lyrics. And it plays on, and on, and on until the morning sun falls into an afternoon glow that bathes their sated bodies.

Once it's all over and their limbs are tangled together, bodies boneless and finally sated for the moment, Sasuke lets out a small hum of contentment. Lying atop him, Sakura purrs back like a cat that got all the cream he could offer her. His fingers comb through the silk rose strands of her hair as he imagines what their next daughter would look like. Personally, he would like their second child to take after Sakura in terms of looks. Her exotic combination of spring green eyes and cherry blossom hair had always been eye-catching.

His imagination of their future daughter dissipates as the sound of a door shutting close resonates through their home, prompting the both of them to freeze in unison.

"Mama! I'm home!"

Sasuke's already sitting up to look for his clothes but then Sakura is guiding him onto his back once more. He looks at her in a panic but she's holding a finger to her smile, urging him to stay still and quiet even as their daughter's footsteps grow louder and nearer.

The footsteps pause at the door and husband and wife watch from the other side, waiting, and waiting, and—the footsteps move away.

"I'm gonna go do some shuriken training!" Sarada announces to no one in particular.

It's only when Sasuke hears the sound of the door closing once more does he sag against the pillows in relief.

"Even without using her Sharingan, your daughter is very perceptive," Sakura giggles softly.

He reaches up to tug on a rosy lock grazing her shoulder. "She gets that from you."

Humming, Sakura takes his hand in hers and kisses into his palm. "That child of ours is going to get into a lot of trouble in the future."

"She has you to guide her."

"And she has you to protect her."

Those words should reassure him of his daughter’s safety, but it also reminds him of the threat of Kara and the Ōtsutsukis. Suddenly, there’s a ball of dread tangled with worry sitting heavy in his stomach. Swallowing lightly, Sasuke starts to say, "If something happens to me… Sakura—"

"Nothing's going to happen to you, Sasuke-kun, I promise."

"...."

Tilting her head, Sakura gives him a challenging stare. "You don't think I'm strong enough to protect you too?"

"I do… but—" His brows start to knit together as Sasuke searches for the right words to express his concerns for the future. Their future.

Cherry blossom locks tickle his cheeks as Sakura leans in and gazes steadily at him. There’s a serenity in her expression that balances Sasuke’s own apprehension. "I'm not twelve years old anymore. I'm no longer that girl who always needed to be saved and protected by you."

Before he can agree aloud, she dips in to kiss him on the mouth, petal-bruised lips melding to his just long enough to allow Sasuke to inhale her sweet, lively scent that she'd always had since they were kids: sunshine on a spring breeze. When Sakura breaks the kiss to look at him, her jade orbs flick side to side, studying the ruby and amethyst eyes shining bright with love.

"I'll protect you too," she leans in to whisper against his lips, kissing him again to seal her vow.

But Sasuke is still haunted by the thought that his daughter might experience the same curse he’d suffered through: the cursing of losing all those precious to you. "Sarada… I don't want her to be alone,” he mumbles.

"She won't be alone. You and I will make sure of that. She will never have to know loneliness thanks to your efforts. So keep protecting this village, okay? Keep protecting our daughter."

He eyes the calm confidence in the curl of her lips. The confidence she has in him. "Aa…"

Satisfied by his response, Sakura leans back and raises her arms to stretch out the delicious aches of her body. Her breasts look abused from the scatter of love bites all over them, and her rosy tips seem reddened and tender, but Sakura doesn't mind at all. Instead of healing away his marks and bruises, she merely taps a finger to her chin in thought. “Hm, I should go get ready now. I promised one of my patients that I’d give pay them a personal visit in exchange for them getting better.”

The upward tilt of his mouth fades away at that. Today is her day off, but the exhaustion from yesterday’s intense hospital shift is lined around her eyes. It doesn’t help that she didn’t get much sleep last night thanks to him. When she tries to slip off Sasuke, his hand tightens around hers, firm and wanting.

“Stay.”

Her brows shoot up at his insistence. Usually, he understands when she needs to drop something to tend to another task and it’s not like he doesn’t do the same thing either. But this is their hard-earned day off and they have the rare privilege of enjoying the intimate privacy of their home together.

"Just stay with me a bit longer," he murmurs again when she untangles their fingers to press a kiss into his palm.

"I'll be back home soon." Her lips sear him like a brand; a promise of her return. But then she starts to pull away from him all too soon and he's reaching for her hand again.

“Sasuke-kun,” Sakura sighs with a soft smile, “I have to go.”

"Hnn..."

He must be pouting, however, because then she giggles and dips down to kiss his pout away. Defeated, Sasuke lets her slip away from him. He watches with a small smirk as she wobbles on shaky legs in the direction of the bathroom to clean up the mess that's clinging to her inner thighs in a thick, gooey white web.

Once she emerges in her usual red qipao dress, he sits up against the pillows, simultaneously awake for the day but also still sluggish from bliss. He's usually not this lazy, but it's his day off and his wife is like a drug that tears down all his defenses, leaving him vulnerable.

She looks expectantly at him through the mirror of her vanity table while slipping on the silver bangles that decorate her wrists. "I'm sure Sarada's already wondering what's taking you so long," 

He tips a quizzical brow at her.

"Sasuke-kun," Sakura's laugh comes out like a sweet chime. "She's waiting for you to help her with her shuriken practice."

 _Oh…_ He smiles. "Aa."

“I'm going to go now.” Opening the door, Sakura smiles wryly over her shoulder at the sight of him still relaxing in their bed like they have all the time in the world. “Don’t keep our daughter waiting all alone.”

He gives her a nod and she turns away from him, the door slowly swinging shut and effectively cutting off Sasuke’s view of her retreating back that carries the precious uchiwa fan symbol of his clan. With a sigh, he lowers his gaze to his open palm where he can still feel the warmth of her kiss—her promise—to him.

_'I'll be back home soon.'_

He’s staring at the palm of his hand now while waiting for the last visitor of the day to finish laying their flowers onto the headstone of Sakura’s grave. Somewhere beneath that mountain of flowers dedicated to his wife is their daughter’s daffodil. Faintly, Sasuke thinks it’s ironic that Sarada would choose a daffodil of all flowers. It looks exactly like the daffodil Sakura had once set on his bedside table when he was twelve years old and stuck in the hospital after Kakashi had attempted to seal his curse mark.

Seven white petals fanning out from its sunny center and it's buried by the plethora of flowers that belong to Sakura’s friends, comrades, coworkers, and the many patients—both former and current—that she'd treated and saved.

Those same flowers frame the headstone that marks where she rests now.

It was inevitable that one of them would have to leave first; Sasuke had learned that the hard way at a young age when he lost his first family. But the docile years of happiness that Sakura had gifted him had made him forget all about that inevitable pain. So it had gutted him like a cold knife when he awoke in the hospital and found that the doctor tending to him was someone other than his wife. And that knife had twisted slowly and crudely in his gut when he saw his daughter staring down at him with a Mangekyou Sharingan, and all it takes is that one look and he knows.

Mother, wife, comrade, doctor, medical-nin, and war hero. Sakura Uchiha epitomizes the dreams of the countless young shinobi who make up his daughter’s generation that will inevitably surpass Sasuke’s. And now, she’s been immortalized too.

_'I'll be back home soon.'_

It's not like she'd said it yesterday, or this morning, but the words have been echoing in his mind every day since her death… since he'd stepped into their home only to be greeted by that familiar aching silence instead of her.

Sasuke’s still staring at the invisible vow she’d kissed into his palm not too long ago when he senses someone approach his side.

“Aren’t you going to go to her?” Kakashi asks quietly.

Blinking slowly at his palm, Sasuke finally raises his head to look around in a daze. The sun is setting and the funeral has already ended—though he doesn’t know when it did—and it seems Hinata has already taken Boruto and Himawari home. Ino, on the other hand, had stayed a while longer after the other guests had left, leaving only when she had to return to her flower shop where business was booming today for all the wrong reasons.

The only people left are the members of the old Team Seven.

But in the corner of Sasuke’s eye is a girl wearing a red qipao shirt and, in his daze, he briefly wonders if Sakura’s ghost has come to bid him a proper goodbye. Inhaling sharply, he fixates his attention on that girl standing as still as a statue before his wife’s grave. How long she’s been standing there, he doesn’t know. Time seems to fly by in a blink of an eye now and it feels like only yesterday Sakura was kissing the palm of his hand and telling him she’d—

_'—be back home soon.'_

Her voice keeps echoing in his head like she's standing right beside him instead of Kakashi. But Sasuke knows she’s not returning… Not this time.

And the girl standing before him has his hair, not his wife’s hair—though it’s similar in style. No, the girl standing there on that grave is no ghost. It’s—

“Sarada needs you,” Kakashi tells him. Grey eyes fix onto the Uchiha father, the faint wrinkles around them now prominent with sorrow for himself and pity for Sasuke.

He nods slowly in reply, automatically. Yes, Sakura—no, _Sarada_ needs him. Because she must be grieving just as hard as he is, if not more. And Sasuke knows it’s his duty to console his daughter… to tell her that everything would be all right… and he was here for her, and he would always be here for her… right?

But how can he console his grieving daughter when nobody had ever been around to console him as a child? He had coped with the grief of losing his family by weeping on the cold floor of his empty home until a bout of puke had silenced his cries. And then he’d spent the years turning that pain and grief into anger and hatred; his only drive for survival.

So Sasuke despairs, agonizes, and ponders over how can he help Sarada with her grief when he himself has never learned to handle his own grief. He is the first person expected to do that for her, but he is also the last person capable of doing so.

And yet…

He takes a step forward.

And yet…

Another step closer to the girl.

_‘Don’t keep our daughter waiting all alone.’_

Swallowing hard, Sasuke nods again and rasps out, “Aa…”

And he walks towards her.

* * *

The rest of the members of Team Seven stay back to give the two Uchihas private time with the fallen matriarch of their family. The solemn atmosphere is enough to choke out any words of comfort they might’ve offered to each other. They'd all attended enough funerals in their lifetime to have already heard the same kind of words of comfort many times. To hear those words again would only drive the blade of woe in their heart even further.

The path of the shinobi is full of obstacles and hardships. Those who choose this path know this, especially the children who pick it right from the start. So it’s to be expected that the life of a shinobi means living a life of risks… like the risk of losing a precious comrade. But out of all the members of Team Seven, not one of them ever thought that the first to go would be Sakura.

After all, she’s the medic; the one who stays out of danger and in the sidelines; the one they’re meant to ensure the survival of in order to ensure the survival of everyone else. So why… why did Sakura—she who’d brought countless many back from the brink of death—have to be the one to die first? _It’s not fair,_ they each think to themselves. But in the world of the shinobi, fairness is nothing more than wishful thinking; a mercy.

Sai is the one who says Sakura died doing what she did best.

Next, it’s Yamato who declares that her sacrifice won’t be in vain.

And then it’s Kakashi’s turn to say something—anything to assuage the heartache they’re all suffering from—because he’s their team leader and he’d looked after these three kids... now whittled down to two… two men who are angry at themselves for not having been strong enough—and at Sakura herself because the truth is that she didn’t die from the wounds she’d sustained from fighting Isshiki. No, the truth is that she’d died giving the last of her chakra to those two knuckleheaded boys instead of using it to save herself. But for Kakashi, he’s not angry at Sakura for being so selfless as she usually is… After all, she’s a medic—a _savior_ —although he faintly thinks it’s ironic that Sakura had easily saved countless lives and yet the one life she couldn’t save was her own. But it’s that sad irony that drives Kakashi angry as well… angry at himself. Because, once again, he’s failed another comrade. Once again, all he could do was watch the light fade from her eyes that were the color of spring and life itself. It’s a striking juxtaposition between life and death; like watching dead leaves wither away.

Even now, the memory of her emerald eyes losing their fierce sparkle continues to haunt him. Either that or the way her cherry blossom locks had been dyed a rosy red by her own blood.

It’s maddening that the Copy Ninja is famous for knowing over a thousand jutsus, but he wishes he knew of a jutsu that could've allowed him to give the rest of his years to Sakura instead of selfishly outliving her. If such a jutsu had existed, he wonders if Sakura would’ve been standing here instead of him.

He’s glad that his mask had hidden the way his lips trembled earlier, tugging down with guilt when it was his turn to lay a lily on Sakura’s headstone. She probably would’ve preferred a daffodil but, ever as late as always, he’d arrived at the Yamanaka flower shop when that option had just been sold out.

Ah, his lip is trembling down again.

Still, Kakashi knows that now is the time to step up as the team’s former mentor and say something. Anything to stop his two boys from beating themselves up over her death. Instead, it’s all he can do to give a nod, shoulders slumped more than usual with a heavy weariness. He looks as if he's carrying Sakura's body in his arms all over again.

But Naruto's eyes are glazed over, lifeless, and he's staring down at his feet as if he's wondering how the hell is he still standing. How the hell is he still alive— _here_ and not _under_. The answer is buried six feet under an overwhelming abundance of flowers and goodbyes.

Kakashi, finding it’s his duty as his former sensei, reaches for Naruto’s shoulder with a heavy hand. “Sakura made her decision because she believed in us,” he says, voice breaking slightly like a chipped blade. “She knew that the future—”

"She was pregnant."

The men freeze and the delicate sigh of the wind sweeping through is all that fills the aching silence.

Kakashi's eyes have now widened with the sickening realization that he hadn't just been carrying Sakura's lifeless body in his arms that day, but also the body of her unborn child too.

"The autop—" Naruto chokes and he rubs a hand down his face as if attempting to scrub off the misery in his expression. It takes a moment for him to be able to speak again in a low whisper that’s raw with agony. "They say S-Sa… Sakura-chan… They say she was just barely a week pre… p-preg….”

He swallows hard but it looks like he’s swallowing needles.

“I-I didn't even know that Sasuke and her were trying to…" His sky blue eyes dull further, the sunny brightness in them having faded away. "I should never have let him..."

He doesn't have the strength to finish. The guilt is crushing all the air out from his lungs and… oh.

Finally, after more than a decade, Naruto now understands the gut-wrenching guilt that Tsunade must have felt when she learned she'd practically sent Jiraiya to his death.

But Sasuke being Sasuke would have never sat back and let his friend put himself in harm's way either. All of Team Seven knows this. They know Naruto knows this too, but Yamato is kind enough to remind him aloud.

"And even if Sasuke hadn't been there with you, you know Sakura still would have gone after you if she knew you needed her help."

Still, the Seventh Hokage is just too deep in pain to register the older man's kind words.

What Kakashi says next is enough to have Naruto squeeze his fist—that fist that had been marked with Sakura's blood—and let the nails dig painfully into his palm.

"Sasuke doesn't know… does he?"

"No," Naruto answers him, and Kakashi continues to stare at the Uchiha's hunched back with overwhelming pity.

"You didn't tell him?" Yamato asks and Naruto flinches.

"Only Shizune, me, and now you guys know about the preg—" Naruto's lips press together. "About Sakura… I just didn’t have the courage to tell him when he’s already..."

"He deserves to know the truth," Sai speaks up.

"I know." Raising his gaze to his best friend, Naruto slowly shakes his head. "But not now… Right now, we should let him focus on Sarada."

* * *

Sasuke touches the girl’s shoulder, gently, carefully.

Her bared skin is cold, but this time he doesn't have his cloak on him to wrap her in. He's wearing his usual black long-sleeve, having refused to wear mourning clothes because he'd just been too angry that—

He sucks in a breath. Well, everyone had mistaken his usual attire for mourning clothes anyway. His daughter had followed his example, however, and Sasuke moves to stand closer, planting himself right at her back to shelter her from the sad sighs of the breeze. It isn’t too long ago that winter has just passed, and he usually doesn’t mind the chilly temperatures since his body seems to act as a natural furnace. But ever since Sasuke had woken up in the hospital, greeted by someone other than his wife, there’s been a shard of ice that continues to burrow its way into his heart. Wondering if his daughter is experiencing the same kind of chilliness within, he tightens his hand on her shoulder just a little more.

Sarada doesn't look at him... doesn't say anything… but neither does she walk away from him. And then from the corner of his eye, he sees it. Slowly, hesitantly, her hand rises to his.

The touch is shaky, but gentle… comforting.

Somehow, it reminds Sasuke of when he first held her in his arm. Sarada was just a tiny little bundle of innocent joy at the time, and he’d been terrified of holding her because what if he’d accidentally hurt her? But then Sakura had adjusted his hand to support Sarada’s head, and the peaceful silence of their newborn daughter sleeping against his chest had subdued such fears. And when that baby awoke, bleary black eyes blinking at him, a grubby little hand had reached out and wrapped so firmly around his index finger that Sasuke thought to himself: _she’s just like Sakura_.

That alone had been enough to quell the anxious hold on his heart.

And as if hearing that thought, that baby had tightened all five fingers onto his one finger and stared directly into his Sharingan and Rinnegan, curious of him but completely fearless.

 _Her hand is still so small after all these years_ , Sasuke muses behind her. She has her mother's dainty fingers, calloused at the tips, but there's also a strength in them that Sakura had passed down to her. Sarada may have her father's looks, but she is every bit like her mother in heart and soul. She is the Uchiha heiress who has inherited the power, love, and spirit of her parents.

That small hand squeezes Sasuke’s and suddenly it’s like all the pain, sorrow, and anguish that’d been taking turns stabbing his heart is squeezed away by the strength of that small hand. The wound in him still remains, but there’s a gentle power in Sarada’s hand that seems to imitate Sakura’s healing hands, and he can feel it soothe the ache in his heart.

And as Sasuke stands with his daughter, the two of them staring quietly at the name engraved on the polished rock of the headstone, he finds it easy to imagine that the hand he's holding is that of a twelve-year-old Sakura—frail at the moment, but he knows that this hand will be moving mountains in no time.

_'She won't be alone. You and I will make sure of that. She will never have to know loneliness thanks to your efforts. So keep protecting this village, okay? Keep protecting our daughter.'_

_I will,_ Sasuke promises to himself, to Sarada, and to Sakura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend to write this kind of chapter but it's been a veeery long while since I wrote smut and I needed the practice, so I just decided to take advantage of this fic lol.
> 
> And I wasn't sure who would be the dom/sub in sex, but both Sakura and Sasuke come off as alphas to me so I just decided to make them both doms that like to take turns.
> 
> I also have this headcanon that Sasuke's Sharingan awakens whenever he's having sex with Sakura lol because it IS canon that intense emotions make the Sharingan come out. OMG now I'm thinking that the Sharingan coming out when Sasuke and Sakura make love is the equivalent of a second boner for him loool! His Sharingan awakens when his dick awakens 🤣

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic stems from this question that popped into my mind during my covid quarantine and the question was this: can trees grow back after being cut down? And the answer to that question is: some can and some cannot. The theme of this fic is that Sakura is like a cherry blossom tree that gets cut down but her tree eventually regrows as her legacy lives on through her daughter and family/friends, essentially representing how she lives on through them.... Yeah, I wrote this fic in the middle of the night - no planning or drafting whatsoever, I just word vomited everything and posted it so this is all a bit messier than my other published works.
> 
> I also love the thematic idea of a "mother's love" and like to predict that Sarada will awaken her Mangekyou Sharingan through the loss of her mother. I think it'd be too predictable to have Sasuke die for Sarada to awaken her Mangekyou Sharingan. Also, I like to think Sarada is more attached to her mother since Sakura raised her through the lonely years Sasuke was away. That is NOT to say Sarada loves her Papa less, but I do think it would be far more painful for Sarada to lose her mother after all they went through together during Sasuke's absence.


End file.
